


N. Y. E.

by impravidus



Series: maybe 'verse [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Banter, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor, New Year's Eve, Party, Precious Peter Parker, Sam Wilson acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:41:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28461834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impravidus/pseuds/impravidus
Summary: “Jesus. The tabloids just won’t get off my ass.”“Tony,” Sam hissed.“Sorry, sorry. I know. Junior mint present.” Tony gave Sam an eye roll and Peter an apologetic smile.“I’m still trying to decipher the appropriate usage of explicit language,” Peter said. “Though, I’m guessing that would be easier to ascertain with trial and error.”“No."Peter's first New Year's Eve.
Relationships: Bruce Banner & Peter Parker, Clint Barton & Peter Parker, James "Bucky" Barnes & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Natasha Romanov, Peter Parker & Sam Wilson, Peter Parker & Steve Rogers, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: maybe 'verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2084730
Comments: 21
Kudos: 188





	N. Y. E.

“Jesus. The tabloids just won’t get off my ass.”

_ “Tony,” _ Sam hissed. 

“Sorry, sorry. I know. Junior mint present.” Tony gave Sam an eye roll and Peter an apologetic smile. He sat on the kitchen counter with a plastic container of pudding, reclining comfortably on the granite.

Peter’s brows furrowed as he thought. “I’m still trying to decipher the appropriate usage of explicit language,” Peter said. “Though, I’m guessing that would be easier to ascertain with trial and error.”

“No,” Sam said firmly. “You are not going to experiment with cursing. That’s just… no.”

Peter frowned. “Then how can I fully understand its appropriate usage?”

“Just assume it’s never an appropriate usage,” Sam said. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look what you did, Tony. He’s confused! Listen to him!”

“Hey! Don’t look at me,” Tony held his hands up in surrender. “He’s fourteen. That’s the perfect age to be figuring this stuff out.”

Peter raised a hand. “You know, fourteen is the prime age of adolescence for self-discovery of individuality—”

“Nope. Don’t be hittin’ me with  _ facts.”  _ Sam sighed. “I think my brain would spontaneously combust if you started cursing.”

Peter’s eyes went wide. “Then I will not curse.”

Sam groaned silently. “That was hyperbolic. My brain would not actually spontaneously combust.”

Peter, relaxing, nodded. “Oh. That’s good.”

“Anyway, what are the tabloids up to now?” Sam asked.

“Theorizing about my New Years Eve party,” Tony replied. “Which… I usually would have had planned by now, but with everything going on…”

“Right,” Sam said. “Well, do you  _ have _ to?”

“Of course I  _ have _ to,” Tony said, scoffing as if that was the most ludicrous suggestion. “I’m Tony Stark.”

“You don’t have to do anything big,” Sam said. “Frame it as an extremely exclusive party. Keep up the mystery and then do something with just the people you want there.”

Tony’s eyebrow raised. “That… could actually work. People go crazy for exclusivity. The speculation alone is… yeah. That could definitely work.”

“What's so important about New Year’s Eve?” Peter questioned.

“It’s a celebration of your accomplishments you had that year and making it to the next year,” Sam said. 

“Really, it’s just an excuse to get plastered and watch fireworks,” Tony added.

_ “Tony!” _

“Right, right.” Tony hopped off of the counter and tossed his cup into the trash. “Well, I’m going to make some vague statements on Twitter to start up the rumors and start planning the party.” He saluted them and headed to the elevator.

“What does a New Year’s Eve party entail? Will it be like Friendsgiving? Or Christmas?”

“Well, there’s a countdown for midnight. They broadcast a big event on TV with musical performances and entertainment. And when it is midnight, this big ball falls and then you cheer and make lots of noise and if you have a significant other, you kiss.”

Peter’s nose scrunches. “This sounds… odd.”

“Well, when I say it like that it does.” He paused. “Oh! And there’s fireworks.”

Peter’s eyes twinkled in intrigue. “Fireworks?”

“You’ve seen videos of them, right?” Sam asked.

“They’re in my fictional movies,” Peter confirmed. 

“Well, I’m sure Tony will be streaming the show on one of his ridiculously enormous TV’s that probably is super mega HD, so you’ll get to see them. If you can stay up, that is.”

“Stay up?” Peter asked.

“Well, midnight is pretty late. And I know you like going to bed early.”

Peter’s back straightened. “I can stay awake. Once, I was deprived of sleep for two hundred thirty seven hours straight.”

Sam winced. “Well, it definitely won’t be that long.”

Peter grinned. “I’m excited.”

“I’m sure whatever Tony’s planning will be good. Appetizers at these things are  _ the  _ best.”

“Should I bake something?” Peter asked, obviously wanting the answer to be yes.

Sam shrugged. “I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt.”

With the opportunity to do something extravagant, Peter did not hold back.

For the next few days, Peter prepared a giant croquembouche, a tower of nearly two hundred creampuffs filled with a variety of fillings and dipped in metallic glaze accordingly. 

With his behemoth of a dessert, Peter headed to the party in a silver fluffy sweater and gold foil polka dotted sweatpants. Sam had provided him a plastic top hat made of gold plastic that read the words “Happy New Year!” It felt odd on his head, an almost invisible weight on his curls, but always present. 

The party, just like the Friendsgiving party, was bustling and bright. Chatter filled the room and Peter could feel the booming bass beneath his feet.

Peter went to join Bruce at the couch where he snacked on a plate full of veggie nests. 

“Hey Bruce,” Peter greeted.

“Oh! Peter! I wasn’t sure if you’d be coming tonight,” Bruce said, scooting over to make room for Peter.

“I wanted to participate in the festivities,” Peter said.

“Well, I’m glad you could make it.” Bruce smiled. 

“Why are you over here?” Peter asked.

“It’s easier to be a wallflower at these sort of events,” Bruce said. “Especially when people can be so…”

“Overwhelming?”

“Infuriating.” Bruce chuckled dryly. “I wish I could just have a normal night, but there’s just too much that sets him off.”

Peter nodded slowly. “Do I set you off?”

Bruce gave him a soft expression and shook his head. “No, you’re great.” He took a deep breath and another bite of his veggie nest. “So, do you have a New Year’s resolution?”

“What’s that?” Peter asked.

“It’s like a goal,” Bruce explained. “It’s one thing you want to do in the new year. People often do things like exercising more or eating healthier. Others do something smaller. My mother used to make little goals like using chapstick everyday or putting on lotion after a shower.”

Peter pondered on the thought. “What if I have more than one?”

“That’s totally okay,” Bruce said. “What are they, if I may ask?”

“I think… that I want to keep them to myself,” Peter said, wringing out his knuckles nervously.

“That’s fine by me,” Bruce said. “I’m proud of you. I know that still isn’t easy for you.”

“I’m learning,” Peter said. 

“Well, you’re doing a great job.”

Peter smiled sheepishly. “Go get something to eat. I can hear your stomach grumbling from here.”

“My stomach is not making any noise,” Peter said with a furrowed brow.

Bruce laughed. “Have a good rest of your evening.”

Peter pulled himself from the couch and headed to the snack table. He salivated in anticipation at the delectable scents. 

“Looks good, huh?” 

Peter looked up and grinned at Bucky. The man wore a velvet suit jacket, his hair pulled back neatly. His plate had crumbs on it which indicated that he had already had a full plate of appetizers before and is coming for seconds, maybe even thirds.

“What do you recommend?” Peter asked.

Bucky taps his chin with his metal finger. “Some spinach spanakopita,” as he spoke, he dropped foods onto Peter’s plates, “mini meatballs, candied bacon smokies — those ones are heaven sent, just trust me on this — a few ham and cheese sliders, and…” his hand hovered around the table, “some of these toast thingies.”

“What’s on it?” Peter asked.

“No idea. But they’re addictive. The green stuff’s got enough cream cheese in it to stop your heart.”

“Then we should probably not eat it,” Peter said warily.

Bucky laughed. “Not literally. It’s just really rich and not very healthy.”

“I’m excited to try it, then,” Peter said. 

“I’ll catch you later,” Bucky said. “Stevie’s had one glass too many of Asgardian mead and needs to hydrate.” Bucky grabbed a water bottle and nodded to Peter before jogging leisurely to Steve.

Peter watched as Steve lit up at the sight of Bucky and wrapped his arms around Bucky with a lovestruck grin. Satisfied with his spread and adding a few desserts, Peter balanced his plates stuck to his forearms and headed to join Clint and Natasha who were in a heated argument.

“Oh, look! Peter can settle this,” Clint said.

Peter raised an eyebrow. “I can try?”

“Natasha thinks that it’s easier to disarm an opponent with a knife while I think it’s easier to disarm with a gun,” Clint explained.

“Are you the one with the weapon or are they the one with the weapon?”

“They’re the one with the weapon,” Natasha clarified.

“Knife,” Peter chose easily.

“Ha!” Natasha cheered. “Take that!”

“No, no, wait. Why knife? It can cause more damage with less effort,” Clint said.

“But guns are volatile, unpredictable, and disorienting,” Peter said. “It’s easier to ignore a graze from a knife than it is to ignore a gunshot.”

“But…” Clint stopped. “Well, I don’t really know. Guess that’s something the deaf guy just doesn’t think about.” He shook his head. “But, wait, it is _ not _ easy to ignore a graze from a knife.”

“It is when you’re anticipating it and desensitized to the pain,” Peter said with a shrug.

Natasha and Clint shared a pained look.

“Thanks for the help, Peter,” Natasha said, breaking the silence. “Did you make those creampuffs?”

“I did!” Peter said, an excited grin spreading on his face.

“They’re delicious,” Natasha praised.

“I’m gonna gain an extra pound of just creampuff after tonight,” Clint added.

Peter jittered in pride. “I’m glad you like them.”

“You should go take some to Steve. He loves sweet stuff when he’s…” Clint trailed off. “He’ll appreciate them.”

Peter nodded and stuck his two plates on his left arm so he could fill a tiny plate with creampuffs with his right.

When he approached Steve, the man stood.

“Peter!” he slurred happily. “You got here just in time! Our song is on!” 

Peter quickly set down his plates right before Steve pulled him over.

“Your song?” Bucky questioned.

“If this song comes on when we’re in the gym, we drop what we’re doing and we dance!” Steve exclaimed, uncoordinatedly undulating almost to the beat.

“Is this ‘Gimme Gimme Gimme (A Man After Midnight)’ by ABBA?” Tony asked.

“Yes it is!” Steve announced happily. He pulled Peter over and started to jump. 

Peter laughed and danced with Steve, almost as poorly as him.

“Bucky. Bucky baby boogie. Come dance with me, my love. Come daaaance! You love to dance. Used to, used to, used to make me dance with you to practice with dames.”

Bucky shook his head. “You know that was just an excuse for me to dance with you.”

“Because you looooove me. You looove me and you wanna daaance with me.” Steve grabbed Bucky’s hand and twirled then pulled Bucky to his chest, one hand in his and the other on his shoulder. They rocked to the beat, the style not matching the synthetic pop at all.

“C’mon, Tony!” Peter said. “Dance with me.” Peter shimmied.

“Uh, no thank you,” Tony said. “I enjoy watching this trainwreck.” He sipped on his sparkling cider. “Besides, I don’t need any more blackmail material.”

“Your loss!” Peter said and went back to his jumbled dance.

After the song was over, Steve stumbled into Bucky’s arms and groaned. “I don’t feel good, Buck.”

“Oh great,” Bucky mumbled. “Gotta get this dunce to the bathroom before he blows chunks all over my good shoes.” Bucky wrapped an arm around Steve’s waist and led him out. “C’mon, sweetheart. I’ll take care of ya.”

Peter, grateful that he can finally eat his appetizers, took a seat next to Tony and dug in.

“I’m guessing I did a good job with the food?” Tony asked.

“Exemplary,” Peter said, mouth full of bacon wrapped goodness.

“Glad to hear the raving reviews.” Tony grabbed a bite of his caprese salad. “Oh yeah. That’s the good stuff.”

Peter’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “Tomatoes.”

“And basil,” Tony added. “It’s like your worst nightmare.”

Peter was about to quip something sarcastically when there was a crash and boom from above. He flinched and closed into himself. The crash and boom grew louder and exploded five times.

“God, they’re starting early, huh?” Tony asked. His smile fell when he saw Peter. “Hey, kid, let’s go find Sam, alright?”

Peter managed a weak nod before grabbing Tony’s elbow and following him meekly, jolting at each crash and boom.

Sam was deep in conversation with Maria Hill when they got to him and he went still quickly. “What’s wrong?”

“Fireworks,” Tony said. 

Sam cursed under his breath. “Hey, bud? How about we go to our room and you can dial your sound dampeners up and watch something? We can even watch with subtitles so you can have some silence?”

Peter nodded, any words he was going to say stuck in his throat.

“Thanks, Tony,” Sam said. He placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder and guided him to the elevator.

As soon as they got on, Peter readjusted his sound dampeners. He had to keep them lower in places like parties because there was so much sound going on at once and he didn’t want to miss anything.

Now, in the comfort away from others, he welcomed the embrace of the quietness. 

Sam rubbed soothing circles into his shoulder blades. “What do you want to watch?”

Peter didn’t respond, the question sending a strike of distress through him.

“You want me to choose?” Sam asked.

Peter nodded. 

“Alright. I’m in the mood for some baking. The good kind, though. How about the  _ Holiday Baking Championship?” _

Peter nodded again, the ghost of a smile on his lips while he tugged at his sleeves.

“Sounds good, then. We’ll make a couple bags of popcorn too.”

Peter raised his chin to look at Sam.

“Of course we can put your stuff on it.”

Peter’s hands trembled slightly as he picked at the fuzz in his sweater. He focused on his breathing, sucking in sharp air through his nose and pushing it out through his mouth.

The warm, familiar scent of their apartment surrounded him and he immediately felt safe. He shuffled to the couch and bundled himself into one of their sherpa blankets.

It was a few minutes before Sam joined him; a big plastic bowl of popcorn was placed into his lap and the artificial scent of the fake cheese struck his nose.

Sam didn’t say anything. Instead, he flipped the TV on and got comfortable in his spot, propping his socked feet up on the coffee table.

He had changed out of his suit and was now wearing fluffy pajama pants and a worn t-shirt.

Peter smiled softly and curled up into his side, resting his head on Sam’s chest and munching on his popcorn.

It was a mellow rest of their night. After his second bowl of popcorn, Peter laid his head on Sam’s lap, sprawling the rest of his body on the rest of the couch. Sam’s fingers found themselves in Peter’s curls, massaging his scalp gently.

“Thank you, Sam,” Peter said after a long yawn.

“Of course,” Sam responded.

“I love you.”

Sam’s heart stuttered, still not used to hearing him say that. “I love you too, bud.”

Peter’s eyes finally fluttered shut far before the clock struck midnight. 

Sam carried Peter to his bed, tucking him in and brushing his hair from his eyes.

At midnight, Sam kissed his index and middle finger and pressed them to Peter’s forehead with a hushed “Happy New Year.”

It was a new year and he had a good feeling that it’ll be a good one.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to chat, my Tumblr is [official-impravidus](https://official-impravidus.tumblr.com/)


End file.
